


Simple Depravity

by careforacuppatea



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 新ムーミン | Shin Moomin (Anime 1972), 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barbed Penis, Breeding, Father/Son Incest, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Blood, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 23:16:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19261141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/careforacuppatea/pseuds/careforacuppatea
Summary: Snufkin, fantasizing about his father, is caught masturbating by Joxter. A good ol' fuck(s) ensues.





	Simple Depravity

**Author's Note:**

> Snufkin is at least 16/17 and at most 18/19.

If Snufkin hadn’t been so reckless and slipped up, he wouldn’t be in the kind of position he’s in right now. He should have known better—he did know better –but he had given in during a moment of weakness.

 

* * *

 

 

When Snufkin had awoken early that morning, he was met with a rather lovely sight—Joxter standing in the early morning light, wearing nothing but a pair of dark green work pants, loosely hanging off his hipbones, and only one of the dark leather straps of his suspenders was secured over a shoulder, the other left dangling. The morning light that streamed in illuminated the Joxter as he bent down to roll up his pant legs, and when the old Mumrik stood up he stretched his arms above his head, a soft groan of pleasure could be heard as tendons snapped and joints cracked.

This only gave more bare skin to admire, and Snufkin couldn’t help the warm stirring deep in his gut as he studied his father in the comfort of furs, noting all the freckles splashed across the Joxter’s back, and when the Mumrik turned around, Snufkin sighed when noting the soft dark fur that started around his navel and traveled down and disappearing at the waistband of the trousers. Snufkin must have been fairly covered by the furs of the bedding, because Joxter hadn’t noticed the boy gazing and watching him from the bed, that or he simply decided not to acknowledge him—his father was always a bit grumpy in the early hours of the morning.

When Joxter had left the room, Snufkin strained his ears to listen as it was always difficult to track the footfalls of his father, as he always had the lightest of steps—but the sound of the front door squealing open, only to swing back and knock at it’s frame, gave the location of his father’s whereabouts. Snufkin presumed the old Mumrik was most likely going to go out to do some early morning fishing, and while the younger man did enjoy fishing, he accepted the fact that most early activities Joxter did were his time alone.

Throwing most of the furs off him, Snufkin sighed as he languidly stretched out, welcoming the cool air. Anyhow, Snufkin had a much better activity in mind, one in which Snufkin knew he shouldn’t indulge in, especially in his father’s bed, but with the haze of just waking up, Snufkin was easily swayed into giving in. He reasoned Joxter wouldn’t be back for a while anyway.

While morning wood was usually a problem, after what Snufkin had woken up too, he was sporting a hard on that painfully strained in his undergarments. One hand left above his head, the other lazily wandered down his body until it rested right at his waistband, fingers twitching at they slid under the band; when he pulled down his undergarments and his dick was set free, a relieved sigh escaped his lips, the cool air clashing with the hot temperature of his skin.

Hazy eyes gazed distantly up towards the ceiling, half lidded as a hand leisurely pumped at his length, thumbing at the head of his cock—Snufkin buried his other hand into his bedhead hair, tugging gently and breathing deeply as waves of pleasure rocked through him. What really got his toes curling is keeping the image of his father this morning, remembering how loosely they hung on his frame, how unnecessarily hot the Joxter could be in suspenders, especially with just on strapped… Snufkin let out a low groan, eyes fully closed as his hand began to work faster, using the precum as lubricant.

He fantasized about worshiping Joxter’s body in that moment of perfection, gently kissing between his father’s sharp shoulder blades, and when his father would turn around, Snufkin would nuzzle into his chest, breathing in the scent of Joxter’s natural musk. Those surprisingly strong arms encasing him, a dangerous mouth pressing roughly onto Snufkin’s; the young man’s mouth fell open just a bit more as he began panting loudly, imagining his father claiming his mouth with his hot, thick, rough tongue.

Snufkin could feel it, could feel the knot in his lower stomach constrict painfully, ready to snap as he now quickly worked his cock, back arching, thoughtlessly moaning. He was too far gone in his rapture and fantasy that he hadn’t heard the door to their tiny cabin swing open and shut closed, nor did his sense the presence of a blue eyed, wild man standing at the doorway—not until it spoke.

“Oh my,” Joxter said, rather loudly and flatly, leaning against the door frame, watching as his son startled, scooting up and quickly withdrawing his hand from his crotch, though considering his underwear had made it halfway down one of his legs, no longer on the other, Snufkin had to admit he had been caught, red handed.

Pathetically, Snufkin moved to drag one of the furs over his vulnerable lower body, but a deep growl from Joxter’s chest, that could be heard across the room, stopped the young man entirely, moving his hand back down to his side as he cautiously turned his full attention to his father; he noted the fact that his father was still rather wet and sweaty from his outing, pants darkened by the water. As Snufkin’s eyes ventured upwards, he noted perspiration on his father’s stomach and chest, swallowing hard as he couldn’t stop his cock responding to such a view as it twitched, reminding him that he had yet to finish. Ignoring that to his best abilities, Snufkin finally laid eyes on his father’s face, slightly cowering into himself when he met those piercing blue eyes—they truly did stab at him, and it made him sick that it only shot straight to his dick.

Joxter held Snufkin’s gaze, before the young one dropped his, and then began casually padding towards the bed of furs. “So is this what you do when I’m away?” Joxter asked, but it wasn’t sincere, and while Snufkin knew better than to answer, today he’d decided to just be impulsive. “N- no, no,” was all Snufkin could say, squirming in his spot as Joxter finally stood before him at the edge of the bedding. While Joxter looked relatively calm, if not completely apathetic to what he’d interrupted, Snufkin caught the flash of something dangerous in those blue eyes. “Then what’s this?” Joxter asked, an edge to his voice, and like a flash of lightning the Joxter had shot a hand out grabbing one of Snufkin’s ankles and dragging the boy towards him. Snufkin let out a yowl from how painfully strong Joxter had his lithe ankle, and how roughly he had dragged his son down to him; while Snufkin was slightly dazed, Joxter had pulled Snufkin at the edge of the bed, and situated himself between his son’s slim, pale legs.

“What’s... what’s what?” Snufkin asked back, a bit shaken up, and squirming and letting out a short hiss as he felt his father press his groin into his own. The Joxter lowered himself down to hover over his son, hands coming to cage Snufkin in on either side of his head. “This, coming back to find you touching what’s mine,” Joxter replied roughly, baring his teeth, blue eyes darkening as if a storm was swirling behind them. “Do I not fuck you enough?” Joxter growled, and before Snufkin to answer, Joxter ground his hips into Snufkin’s, and the friction against his neglected cock caused the young man to gasp before releasing a pitiful whine. Joxter continued these gyrations of his hips, the rough rubbing of cloth on skin was almost becoming painful, but it only seemed to add to the pleasure as Snufkin simply wanted to cum, so badly. When the old Mumrik stopped his movements, stepping back just a bit as he stood up, Snufkin let out a soft cry, hips rising in need.

Joxter shrugged off the one suspender strap and was quick in dropping his pants down and shucking them aside, before wedging himself back between Snufkin’s legs, and as he roughly grabbed the boy’s thighs, dark, hungry eyes stared deeply into Snufkin’s. “What is that you want, boy?” Joxter demanded, pressing his hips once again down onto Snufkin’s, which caused the boy to groan as the feeling of his father’s hot skin on his raised goosebumps. His dick hurt, straining against his stomach, white pearls of precum smearing on his skin—and so to end the hurt, Snufkin stared directly into his father’s cold gaze, and unabashedly stretched his hands above his head, arch his back and lock his legs around his father’s waist, the boy moaned out wantonly, “I want you to fuck me, papa.”

A wolfish grin spread across the Joxter’s face as hungry eyes watched his boy squirm and grasp the furs above him as he slammed into his son’s tight ass.

 

* * *

 

 

Hours, it must have been hours—Snufkin wasn’t sure, but from how used and abused and absolutely fucked the young man feels, from the fact he’d came about four times, and the sunlight streaming in had changed angles throughout their fucking-- it had to be hours. Pain and pleasure had become intermixed as Joxter truly was fucking Snufkin, the old Mumrik’s libido surprisingly jumped back as if he was around Snufkin’s age still, and Snufkin wasn’t entirely sure if he was glad about that. Joxter was erect again, even though the man had just come a few minutes ago from fucking Snufkin’s mouth— _to give a break to Snufkin’s cunt_ , as Joxter put it, thrusting his fat, long, barbed cock into Snufkin’s hot, little mouth. The barbs on Joxter’s cock were just as rough and almost as painful as they could be in Snufkin’s ass, rubbing against his tongue and against the walls of his mouth as Joxter roughed thrust in and out of his son’s mouth. While no blood was left from such a brutal mouth fucking, Snufkin could smell a distinct scent of iron in the room, and from how his entrance felt so painful whenever Joxter pulled out the third time around, Snufkin knew he had to be bleeding down there.

While this may have worried Snufkin, Joxter didn’t seem at all concerned as the man began to prepare Snufkin for another fucking—but this time, having his son position himself on his hands and knees, then directing Snufkin to lower himself down to rest on the flat of his forearms. Snufkin was too exhausted, almost feeling drunk from the potent scent of sex and musk in the air, that he simply did what his father told him. “What a good boy, behaving like an obedient bitch,” Joxter purred, voice an octave deeper and slightly raspy from the long periods of using his voice during their long period of breeding. Snufkin could feel a deep flush in his cheeks [both face and ass] from hearing such filthy talk coming from his father, resting his forehead on the furs below.

Joxter purred with content, seeing his son in such a compromising position, ass sticking up and entrance, dripping with saliva, cum—and some of the cum was tinted pink from blood. It almost got the old Mumrik drooling as he admired it all, before grasping his son’s supple hips, and without a warning, slammed his cock straight into Snufkin’s entrance. Snufkin gasped silently as he arched upward, though when he was about to get onto his hands, a strong hand pushed him back down from the middle of his back; Snufkin cried and screamed, drool pooling below his face as he was kept at the angle in which his father could drive as deep as possible into the young man’s ass.

It was all too much, _far_ too much—pain was warring with ecstasy as Joxter’s thick cock thrusts in and out of Snufkin, assaulting his already overly sensitive bundle of nerves, it honestly felt as if Joxter was going to split Snufkin open. Even with the pain of over stimulation and the fact the barbs on Joxter’s cock rubbed against his already throbbing, aching walls, Snufkin’s cock was becoming erect. Skin slapping skin, the sounds of squelching and other filthy noises rebounded off the walls of the den, along with Snufkin screaming, crying, pleading for his father, his _daddy_ , his _papa_ , to _stop_ , to _go faster_ , to _go harder_ , swearing until all he seemed to be saying was nonsense, gibberish, the only thing that could be really made out was _Joxter_ , _papa_.

Joxter simply grunted and groaned, growling from deep inside his chest as he painfully held Snufkin’s hips, leaving pretty bruises; Joxter’s thrusts were soon becoming erratic, frantic—and Joxter couldn’t help but lean back to watch his cock, glistening with bodily liquids and tinged pinkish-red with blood, a feral, predatory emotion came over him. Bending over Snufkin, hips still slamming into Snufkin, Joxter mouthed and nipped at the soft flesh of his son’s shoulders and neck… Picking the place between Snufkin’s right shoulder and neck, Joxter placed wet lips, almost like a gentle kiss, then baring his teeth and biting into the unmarked skin there. That along with Joxter’s final, rough thrust into Snufkin, the young man screamed as he came for the fifth time, although not much did come out, grasping the furs underneath him til his knuckles turned white. Joxter came with a muffled groan, hands squeezing into the soft skin of Snufkin’s hips, leaving cuts and punctures from the Mumrik’s claws; teeth sunk deep in flesh for as long as his cock was shooting hot streams of cum inside Snufkin, hips lazily, gently thrusting still.

Finally, once the pumping of cum ceased, Joxter finally released his hold on the crook of Snufkin’s neck and shoulder, though he hovered as he licked at the wound, rough tongue taking up as much blood that had spilled out or was still coming out from the neat teeth marks. Snufkin felt as if he was going to fall apart right there, face lying in a poodle of drool with hazy eyes and flushed face, he barely reacted to the bite except maybe flinching a bit from Joxter’s bristled tongue. When Joxter seemed satisfied with the bite mark, he gave it a soft kiss with dark, red stained lips, before bringing himself back up. It’s when Joxter began pulling out, ever so slowly, that Snufkin came alive, crying out and throwing a hand back to grab Joxter’s wrist, which did stop him from continuing. It was the barbs, they hurt so terribly, especially with Joxter pulling out so slowly, Snufkin wondered if he’d bleed out tonight from all his wounds.

Joxter only chuckled, before continuing his slow pull out, basking in the sounds of Snufkin breathing hard, crying his name, then completely collapsing onto his right as Joxter’s flaccid cock slipped out. Pinkish cum came leaking out of Snufkin’s entrance as he laid there, eyes half lidded, mouth slacked open as he panted, quietly whining. Joxter, gazing down at his son, spent and marked, finally felt content; the boy before him was covered in hickeys and nips, hips left with bruises that would be flowering soon, the way Snufkin’s brown hair was an absolute wreck.

The old Mumrik, feeling tired after breeding his son five times in just a day, decided to join his son on the filthy set of furs [he’d do something about that later, or tomorrow even] bringing the rather lifeless boy into his chest. Snufkin happily nuzzled into his father, and as time went, his breathing calmed, and the whining stopped; Joxter listened as his son fell into a deep sleep.

Later, he knew, he’d have to be the responsible one and get them cleaned up, get his son’s wounds at least looked at, and then figure out what to do with the soiled furs. But for now, Joxter simply held his son close, resting his face in the soft waves of Snufkins hair, breathing in deeply and loving the fact he could smell his own scent mingled in with Snufkins. Letting out a silent yawn, Joxter allowed himself sleep, happily purring as he did so.


End file.
